Dialogues on the Supersensual Life

Then the Soul with its ugly misshapen image went before God and entreated for Grace and the pardon of its sins, and came to be strongly persuaded in itself that the satisfaction and atonement of our Lord Jesus Christ did belong to it. But the evil properties of the Serpent, formed in the Astral Spirit, or Reason, of the outward Man, would not suffer the Will of the Soul to come before God, but brought their lusts and inclinations thereinto.

But when the Devil saw that the Soul thus prayed to God, and would enter into repentance, he drew near to it, and thrust the inclinations of the earthly properties into its prayers, and disturbed its good thoughts and desires which pressed forwards towards God, and drew them back again to earthly things that they might have no access to him.

The central Will of the Soul indeed sighed after God, but the thoughts arising in the mind that it should penetrate into him, were distracted, scattered and destroyed, so that they could not reach the Power of God. At which the poor Soul was still more affrighted and began to pray more earnestly. But the Devil with his desire took hold of the kindled, fiery Wheel of Life, and awakened the evil properties, so that evil or false inclinations arose in the Soul, and went into that thing wherein they had taken most pleasure and delight before.

Upon this the Soul sighed and bewailed itself to God; but was as if it were quite forsaken by him, and cast out from its Presence. It could not get so much as one look of Grace, but was in mere anguish, fear and terror, and dreaded every moment that the Wrath and severe Judgment of God would be manifested in it, and that the Devil would take hold of it and have it. And thereupon fell into such great heaviness and sorrow, that it became weary of all the temporal things, which were before its chief joy and happiness.

The earthly natural Will indeed desired those things still, but the Soul would willingly leave them altogether, and desired to die to all temporal lust and joy whatsoever, and longed only after its first native country, from whence it originally came. But it found itself to be far from thence in great distress and want, and knew not what to do, yet resolved to enter into itself, and try to pray more earnestly.

He awakened the earthly lusts in its heart, that they might still keep their evil nature and false right therein, and set them at variance with the new-born Will and Desire of the Soul. For they would not die to their own Will and Light, but would still maintain their temporal pleasures, and so kept the poor Soul captive in their evil desires, that it could not stir, though it sighed and longed never so much after the Grace of God. For whensoever it prayed, or offered to press forward towards God, then the lusts of the flesh swallowed up the rays and ejaculations that went forth from it, and brought them away from God into earthly thoughts, that it might not partake of Divine Strength. Which caused the poor Soul to think itself forsaken of God, not knowing that he was so near it, and did thus attract it. Also the Devil tempted the poor Soul, saying to it in the earthly thoughts:

"Why dost thou pray? Dost thou think that God knoweth thee or regardeth thee? Consider but what thoughts thou hast in his presence; are they not altogether evil? Thou hast no faith or belief in God at all; how then should he hear thee? He heareth thee not, leave off; why wilt thou needlessly torment and vex thyself! Thou hast time enough to repent at leisure. Wilt thou be mad? Do but look upon the world I pray thee a little; doth it not live in jollity and mirth, yet it will be saved well enough for all that. Hath not Christ paid the ransom and satisfied for all men? Thou needest only persuade and comfort thyself that it is done for thee, and then thou shalt be saved. Thou canst not possibly in this world come to any feeling of God, therefore leave off, and take care for thy body, and look after temporal glory. What dost thou suppose will become of thee, if thou turn to be so stupid and melancholy? Thou wilt be the scorn of everybody, and they will laugh at thy folly; and so thou wilt pass thy days in mere sorrow and heaviness, which is pleasing neither to God nor Nature. I pray thee, look upon the beauty of the World, for God hath so erected and placed thee in it, to be a Lord over all Creatures and to rule them. Gather store of temporal goods beforehand, that thou mayest not be beholden to the World, or stand in need hereafter. And when old age cometh, or that thou growest near thy end, then prepare thyself for repentance. God will save thee, and receive thee into the heavenly mansions there.

In these and the like thoughts the Soul was ensnared by the Devil, and brought into the lust of the flesh, and earthly desires; and so bound as it were with fetters and strong chains that it did not know what to do. It looked back a little into the World and the pleasures thereof, but still felt in itself a hunger after Divine Grace, and would rather enter into repentance and favour with God. For the Hand of God had touched and bruised it, and therefore it could rest nowhere; but always sighed in itself after sorrow for the sins it had committed, and would fain be rid of them. Yet could not get true repentance, or even the knowledge of sin, though it had a mighty hunger and longing desire after such penitential sorrow.

The Soul being thus heavy and sad, and finding no remedy or rest, began to cast about where it might find a fit place to perform true repentance in, where it might be free from business, cares, and the hinderances of the World; and also by what means it might win the favour of God. And at length purposed to betake itself to some private solitary place, and give over all worldly employments and temporal things, and hoped that by being bountiful and pitiful to the Poor, it should obtain God's mercy. Thus did it devise all kinds of ways to get rest, and to gain the love, favour, and grace of God again. But all would not do; for its worldly business still followed it in the lusts of the flesh, and it was ensnared in the net of the Devil now, as well as before, and could not attain rest. And though for a little while it was somewhat cheered with earthly things, yet presently it fell to be as sad and heavy again as it was before. The truth was it felt the awakened Wrath of God in itself, but knew not how that came to pass, nor what ailed it. For many times great trouble and terror fell upon it, which made it comfortless, sick, and faint with very fear; so mightily did the first bruising it with the ray or influence of the stirring of Grace work upon it. And yet it knew not that Christ was in the Wrath and severe Justice of God and fought therein with that Spirit of Error incorporated in Soul and Body, nor understood that the hunger and desire to turn and repent came from Christ Himself, neither did it know what hindered it that it could not yet attain to Divine Feeling.

The Creator hath hid his Countenance from me, so that I cannot come to his Rest; therefore I am thus troubled, and know not what I shall do to get his Loving-kindness again. For great cliffs and rocks lie in my way to his Grace, so that I cannot come to him. Though I sigh and long after him never so much, yet I am kept back, so that I cannot partake of his Power, Virtue, and Strength.

Thou bearest the monstrous shape of the Devil, and art clothed therewith; in which, being his own Property or Principle, he hath access or power of entrance into thee, and thereby keepeth thy Will from penetrating into God. For if thy Will might penetrate into God, it would be anointed with the highest Power and Strength of God, in the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ; and that unction would break in pieces the monster which thou carriest about thee; and thy first Image of Paradise would revive in the Centre; which would destroy the Devil's Power therein, and thou wouldst become an Angel again. And because the Devil envieth thee this happiness, he holdeth thee captive in his Desire in the lusts of the flesh, from which if thou art not delivered, thou wilt be separated from God, and canst never enter into our Society.

At this speech the poor distressed Soul was so terrified and amazed, that it could not speak one word more. When it found that it stood in the form and condition of the Serpent which separated it from God, and that the Devil was so nigh it in that condition, who injected evil thoughts into the Will of the Soul, and had so much power over it thereby that it was near damnation and sticking fast in the Abyss or bottomless pit of Hell in the Anger of God, it would have even despaired of Divine Mercy; but that the Power, Virtue and Strength of the first stirring of the Grace of God, which had before bruised the Soul, upheld and preserved it from total despair. But still it wrestled in itself between Hope and Doubt; whatsoever Hope built up, that Doubt threw down again. And thus was it agitated with such continued disquiet, that at last the World and all the glory thereof became loathsome to it, neither would it enjoy worldly pleasures any more; and yet for all this could it not come to Rest.

What dost thou? Wilt thou destroy thyself in thy anguish and sorrow? Why dost thou torment thyself in thy own Power and Will, seeing thy torment increaseth thereby more and more? Yea, if thou shouldst sink thyself down to the bottom of the sea, or fly to the uttermost coasts of the morning, or raise thyself above the stars, yet thou wouldst not be released. For the more thou grievest, tormentest, and troublest thyself, the more painful thy nature will be; and yet thou wilt not be able to come to Rest. For thy Power is quite lost, and as a dry stick burnt to a coal cannot grow green and spring afresh by its own power, nor get sap to flourish again with other trees and plants; so neither canst thou reach the Place of God by thy own power and strength, and transform thyself into that Angelical Image which thou hadst at first. For in respect to God thou art withered and dry, like a dead plant that hath lost its sap and strength, and so art become a dry tormenting Hunger. Thy Properties are like Heat and Cold which continually strive one against the other, and can never unite.

Thou shalt do nothing at all but forsake thy own Will, viz., that which thou callest I, or thyself. By which means all thy evil properties will grow weak, faint, and ready to die; and then thou wilt sink down again into that One Thing from which thou art originally sprung. For now thou liest captive in the Creatures; but if thy Will forsaketh them, they will die in thee, with their evil inclinations, which at present stay and hinder thee that thou canst not come to God. But if thou takest this course, thy God will meet thee with his infinite Love, which he hath manifested in Christ Jesus in the Humanity, or human Nature. And that will impart sap, life and vigour to thee, whereby thou mayst bud, spring, flourish again, and rejoice in the Living God, as a branch growing on his true Vine. And so thou wilt at length recover the Image of God, and be delivered from that of the Serpent. Then shalt thou come to be my brother and have fellowship with the Angels.

Now thou hast worldly power and riches, which thou possesses! as thy own, to do what thou wilt with, and regardest not how thou gettest or invest the same, employing them in the service or indulgence of thy carnal and vain desires. Nay though thou seest the poor and needy wretch who wanteth thy help, and is thy brother, yet thou helpest him not, but layest heavy burdens upon him, by requiring more of him than his abilities will bear, or his necessities afford, and oppressest him, by forcing him to spend his labour and sweat for thee and the gratification of thy voluptuous Will. Thou art moreover proud and exultest over him, and behavest roughly and sternly to him, exalting thyself above him, and making small account of him in respect of thyself. Then that poor oppressed brother of thine cometh, and complaineth with sighs towards God, that he cannot reap the benefit of his labours and pains, but is forced by thee to live in misery. By which sighings and groanings of his he raiseth up the wrath of God in thee, which maketh thy flame and unquietness still the greater.